Category Archives: yoga practice

Take appropriate and intelligent steps toward your goal

Grandmother, Watercolor by Amanda Green

Definitions of āsana Part 5: Vinyāsa krāma Start where you are and take appropriate and intelligent steps to reach your goal

Vinyāsa krāma is one of the most valuable ideas that I’ve received from yoga. It has taught me how to think, how to make change, how to move from where I am to a place that I want to be. It applies to just about every aim I have set my sights on. I so appreciate times when my teachers have helped and guided me through these appropriate and intelligent steps.  The experiences have been so powerful, but it’s so hard to write about. Like all of the entries in this series, I keep getting caught up. The experience of vinyāsa krama is so much more than can be expressed in a few paragraphs. Like all of yoga, the experience is what really matters and the ideas serve best when they are a description of something you already know in your bones. So here we go again with something imperfect but sincere.

Let’s reflect for a moment… if you want to go from where you are to somewhere different, it’s really helpful to know where you want to go. Once you have an idea of where you want to go, it’s also important to know what your starting place is. With this information, it becomes possible to map out the appropriate and intelligent steps to move you in the right direction. Nothing is skipped and there aren’t extreneous things thrown in along the way. This is vinyāsa krāma.

Vi – special nyāsa– placement krāma – steps

This approach seems obvious when you think about going to the store to buy something you need. You know where you are. You know how much time you have. You think about where the store is and the roads that will get you there. Then you make the effort to transport yourself to the store. You don’t make extra stops because you are aiming for an efficient errand-running outing. You head to the store, get what you need, and you accomplish your goal.

This may also be a familiar process if your yoga practice applies principles of vinyāsa krāma (not all do).  Say you go to a yoga class, and the teacher has chosen an āsana goal for you to experience. Your teacher guides you through experiences that warm your body, expand your breath, direct your mind and help prepare you for the posture. Throughout class, you work toward this goal in a focused and directed way and then ta-da! you move into the posture with comfort and get to be with that new experience. Vinyāsa krāma, when skillfully applied, invites the system to unfold, open, and move with stability and ease toward a new experience.

These principles, like all of the things we practice in āsana, apply to life, too. Do you want to learn to play the piano? Build a deck in your back yard? Develop a consistent daily yoga practice? Improve your communication patterns with a loved one? Here are three considerations when applying vinyāsa krāma in your life.  

  1.  Reflect on the aim or goal. Envision it. Imagine it. It’s good practice to consider your motivations, too. Are they coming from the right place?
  2. Understand your starting place. Where are you now? It’s easy to get caught up in evaluating where we are as good/bad, productive/deficient, likable/unlikable. But that’s not the point.  When you make an aim to move toward your goal, it is so helpful to know what skills you have and which ones you need to develop.  What needs strengthening? Are there things that you do that get in the way of moving toward your goal. Look at yourself with generous honesty and aim for a fair assessment of you in this moment. This will help you to create the intelligent and appropriate steps.
  3. Develop a roadmap to help you get there. When you apply vinyāsa krāma to an aim or goal, you are choosing to have experiences that will help you move toward your goal. These experiences are steps and you take one and then the next, not skipping anything important, and not adding in anything superfluous.  If you are building a deck, you develop a plan before cutting the wood. If you are learning to play the piano, a teacher gives you a simple song before something complex. In this way, we gain experience gradually, progressively, intelligently and appropriately as we move toward our goal.

The thing that I most appreciate about this definition of āsana and the experience of vinyāsa krāma is how respectful it is of my human nature. When I think about it, I sigh and relax a little bit. I drop some of the ‘shoulds’ and ‘have to’s’. I’m not expected or required to be anywhere other than where I am right now. After all, where, who and how I am in this moment is the only way I can begin anything. My path is individual. There isn’t a predetermined route to reach a goal, there is a special route that is appropriate to me and the steps I take along that route are personal. The needed steps depend on how I am functioning, what I need, and what will be helpful in my journey. The times that I’m guided by my teachers who are so steeped in these principles, I’m touched by how the thoughtful, how kind, and how good it feels to move through a process towards something I hadn’t been able to do or experience in quite that way before.  It’s like magic. Without pushing or forcing, something opens and unlocks and something becomes possible.

Āsana reaches all parts of our being

Field trip to the Museum, watercolor, Amanda Green http://www.amandagreenfineart.com/

Definitions of āsana, Part 4: Sārva Aṅga Sādhana: Āsana is an all parts practice

If you’ve been practicing yoga for a while, you may find it difficult to describe to your non-yoga going friends what it’s doing for you. They can see that you get a lot out of it but can’t wrap their mind around how, exactly, ‘stretching’ can help you feel more peace around a difficult situation. Or how yoga can help can help you to heal – not just physically but emotionally, too.  I’ve been in the yoga-game for over a decade and I talk about yoga for a living, but even so, it’s a great challenge to describe why and how yoga works to someone who hasn’t experienced it. I was at a party a few weeks ago and this very thing came up.  A casual friend approached me about his injured back. He wants to feel better, and is curious about what I do, but is a great skeptic when it comes to yoga. I asked some questions and described a little of what I’m writing about here, but when it came down to it, he just doesn’t see the back injury as having anything to do with the stress at work and the chronic movement patterns that strain this area. He isn’t yet at a place where he can see all these parts of his life experience as interrelated. That’s okay. Seed is planted. He’ll know I’m right, eventually. 😉

This definition of āsana is known as sārva aṅga sādhana, literally meaning “all parts practice.” To me, this definition is a way of beginning to understand why yoga can help with so many aspects of our lives. When we practice yoga postures, we call on every part of our system to get involved. You might be wondering, what are all these parts we’re talking about? Yoga has a model to help us reflect on this very question.

The pañca maya model comes from the ancient Vedic text, the Taittirīya Upaniṣad, and describes our human system as having five (pañca) interconnected and interdependent veils or layers (maya):

5 Interconnected facets of our human system * Pañca Maya

Body * Annamaya

Breath and Prāṇa * Prāṇamaya

Mind * Manomaya

Behavior and Personality * Vijñānamaya

Emotions * Ānandamaya

Āsana invites each aspect of our being to the practice. When we are present in this way and all parts of us are activeley involved, then āsana has the potential to facilitate deep change in our lives. We breathe consciously and with technique [expanding the chest with inhales, drawing the abdomen toward spine with exhales]. The dynamic movements into and out of postures coordinate with the length of the breath. All of this requires a lot of attention and presence. Activity that requires attention and presence also reveals aspects of our personality.  Some days, āsana might be a welcome practice, other days, not so much. Why? We have different moods and modes. Āsana lets us become aware of and work with these moods and modes. Linked to all of this is an emotional experience. There’s a feeling that comes with everything we do. Āsana is much more than stretching. It involves all parts of our being. If we stick with it, we can be present to what it is to be a person. Difficulties can begin to digest, old patterns begin to change, and we awaken to something within us that is steady and light.

Even with a beautiful description of this multi-dimensional system and how yoga works on all these levels, our attempts to explaining to our curious friend will fall short.  Yoga is experiential. It’s something that you do and that does something to you.  It’s something your friend will feel when they are in your presence, even if they can’t put words to how and why it works.

For Āsana to help us operate in a new way, we have to be willing to have new experiences

Definitions of āsana, Part 3: Nava śarīra saṁskāra

Yoga is full of paradox.  In my teaching lately, I’ve found myself saying one thing about yoga and at the very moment that it is coming out of my mouth, what feels like it’s opposite is ringing in my head, ‘Not so fast, little lady…’

Teaching and practicing yoga require a contemplative mind (‘yes, and’) and humility (there are so many ways to see truth and to know something). Writing about these definitions of āsana continues to fall short of how amazing and transformational the experience can be.  I guess that’s because āsana isn’t something that you can get to the bottom of by reading blogs. It’s an experience that you fully participate in with your entire being.  Only when you’ve spent time doing āsana does reading and writing about it have purpose.  Experience it again and again over time and then these definitions and theory mean something.

I’m pretty sure that if you’re on this blog about yoga, it’s not all theory for you.  You do it. You know what it has done to you. And the teachings and context provides a description and language for something you already know and feel. That’s why I write about it. Writing brings my interior world to the surface. The attempts to express what goes on down there is an opportunity for retasting. It helps make what’s subtle a little more tangible. So here we go. Definition number three.

Like yoga, life is full of paradoxes. One of those centers around our habits and patterns. We need patterns to communicate, to do our jobs, to feel connected to the people in our lives, and to navigate a challenging and vibrant world.  And yet, our patterns can become so impenetrable that we get stuck repeating them over-and-over, even when they get in the way of what we most need or desire. Our communication patterns can leave us having the same argument with a partner year after year. The way our shoulders scrunch up when we’re under stress happens out of deep patterning and we may not be aware of it till we’re having that migraine again.  When our patterns are limiting us or even determining our behavior, then āsana and the process of developing a nava śarīra saṁskāra, or “new body pattern” can help.

This third definition of āsana, nava śarīra saṁskāra, invites us to work with body patterns that we hold, repeat, and carry with us all the time. It’s funny because the pañca maya model (more on this next post) describes 5 interconnected layers of our human system from the most gross to the most subtle. These layers are: body, prāṇa/breath, mind, personality, and emotions.  Body is the first one on the list, suggesting that it is the most gross. We often begin our yoga work with āsana and the body because we can move it and see it move.  Yes this is true that the body is accessible, and some of our body patterns are incredibly subtle. We humans develop our personal postural patterns really early. That postural pattern makes it possible to recognize your friend from behind on a crowded street from 200 feet away even if you haven’t seen them in years. We don’t think about walking. We just walk.  We don’t try to tighten or clench when we get scared. But we do. So, working with body patterns is accessible and also very deep work.

In order for āsana to help us operate in a new way, we have to be willing to have new experiences. If we’re set on continuing along the same old lines, then we are going to approach āsana in the same way we do (and have done) everything else. This willingness is the key to letting something new come in. And learning how to welcome new experiences can enrich our approach to āsana practice.

I’ve put together a list below of tips that can help you open to new experiences and get the most out of your āsana practice. You might get a feel from reading the list that inspires or maybe one thing jumps out as something you’d like to try on for a while. Nava śarīra saṁskāra, here we come.

10 Keys for developing new body patterns. Nava śarīra saṁskāra !

  • Invite change! (the old pattern was getting in the way, remember?)
  • Be willing to do things in a new way
  • Have a beginner’s mind. Set aside what you think you know and listen again for the first time.
  • Feel the sensations in your body as they arise
  • Stay curious and open
  • Have patience. New patterns take time to develop.
  • Suspend judgment. You can’t be good or bad at something when it’s a new experience
  • Defer decisions about liking or not liking the activity. (Most of us like the feeling of not being amazing at something. And when we are doing something new, we’re not going to be amazing.)
  • If what you’re doing feels awkward and uncomfortable, you are really doing it! You are exploring something new!
  • And the #1 most helpful and important key to developing a new body pattern…become someone’s student! You need a teacher who is a keen observer, an honest guide, and who has done the work deeply and sincerely her/him/themself. Without a teacher, our patterns are very hard to see and even harder to change.

What we do in āsana is not normal or ordinary

definitions of āsana, Part 2

On Leave, Watercolor, Amanda Green

Ās śarīra aṅga vinyāsa

We see here another meaning of ās, meaning ‘seat’ or ‘comfortable seat.’

śarīra – body

aṅga – limb

vinyāsa – a special arrangement

My girls are closing in on the end of the first quarter of their school year and we all seem to have bumped up against the same wall this week.  Hazel announced that she hates school (or at least all the school work). Nora expressed her wall-hitting with a seriously grouchy and argumentative attitude. Dave admitted to feeling a little blue. And when I woke up on Monday morning, I thought, “Here we go again…” I caught myself feeling like Monday was something I had to hold my nose to swallow and that this Monday would be stamped out just like all the Mondays before. I was not excited.  

I practiced yoga that morning, and I’m glad I did because something changed. It didn’t happen instantly, but over time, as I breathed and moved in a special way, I began to feel present. Āsana practice reminded me of something really important – this day, which happens to be a Monday, is the moment I’m alive. In āsana, we connect with what is happening – I’m breathing… I have a body that moves and feelsI can only feel this now So much is happening… So much is possible. Yoga is a practice that helps make the wonder of the moment available again. It helps me remember how I would like to show up for my life. If normal and ordinary feel like going through the motions or ‘getting through the day,’ then practicing āsana in a way that is not ordinary helps me reconnect to what is special about being alive. This kind of practice is vital to having a meaningful life.

This definition of āsana tells us that practice looks different from what is regular and ordinary in other ways, too. If we work at a desk job that is highly analytical, āsana practice might focus on standing postures and have a focus that is more relaxing for the mind.  If we cut hair for a living, standing much of the day, talking to clients, and squeezing and working the hands and wrists, then a quiet practice, reclined postures, and gentle hand and wrist movements in the opposite direction could provide a break from the ordinary. Live alone? You may enjoy attending a regular group class where you get to enjoy the company and companionship of others.  Climb mountains? Drive a bus? Care for small children? Surf? Swim? Work as a cook? Clean houses? There’s a regular or ordinary set of movements that goes along with each of these activities and we look for what is not ordinary when designing an āsana practice.

There’s more to āsana practice than the primary orientation of the postures. For many of us practice is not normal because it’s one of the few times we turn our attention away from what is happening outside of us and direct the attention to something more quiet and subtle within.  Attention to the breath, to the quiet communications of the body and our emotional experience can be a special aspect of āsana practice and a special way of being.

Practice isn’t ordinary. It is special.

Āsana is about being and becoming

Definitions of āsana, Part 1

Almost Three, Watercolor, Amanda Green

The root of the word āsana comes from the sanskrit root, ās. This can mean, “being or becoming.”  If āsana is rooted in being and becoming, what does that tell us about what we are practicing? How does this context and this definition give us guidance for our practice? This is a big topic to kick off our series, but this idea is the container in which all of our other definitions exist, so it is a good place to begin.

When I think about ‘being,’ it feels simple. An apple can be an apple, but it can’t be an orange. Even those weird apples that were at our grocery store a few years ago that had been injected with an artificial grape flavor were still apples. A rotten apple? Still being apple. Apple juice? Still being apple. Being is basic and essential.  The things that were true about my being when I was an infant are true about me now. No matter how we dress it up, how it ails, ages, or changes, we are being until the end.  

Becoming is happening at every moment. What we do and the experiences we have inform our next ones. If we are doing the same things over and over again, then we are becoming the person who acts and reacts in the same way we always have.  If, instead, we have different experiences, then we are becoming a ‘different person’. We can react and respond to things in a fresh way.  This is one of the most hopeful ideas in all of yoga.  Becoming is continually happening. That means we can help to create who we are becoming by choosing and participating in experiences that generate the kinds of feelings we want more of.

Āsana is one of the experiences where we can practice being who and how we want to be. Do we want to be more accepting of our struggles? We can practice acceptance in āsana.  Do we want to have more peace and calm? We can practice āsana in a peaceful and calm way. When our teacher recognizes a pattern of tension, straining, or distraction is present in our practice, they might help us to see that and encourage a better way of practicing.

Daily āsana practice is an experience that can shape the moments that follow, and repeated regularly, it has the potential to shape the way we live out life. With breath and movement (and sometimes sound and intention) as our tools, āsana invites us to become increasingly present and conscious.  This definition reminds us that āsana is doing something to us, and it invites us to experience something of our essential nature. You and I are invited to become who we are.

What makes yoga postures so darn special?

Relaxing, watercolor, Amanda Green

Introduction: Is yoga the same as stretching?

For a long time, my yoga practice was about mastering certain postures.  I worked really hard to stick a handstand.  I went to vinyasa class and wanted so badly to be able to defy gravity and float my feet from downdog to that forward bend at the front of the mat.  Fancy arm balances? Yes, please.  Bend further? No problem. Big, dancer-like transitions between postures that took me high and then low? Bring it. I worked out. I got better at all of these things and even had moments of of feeling that particular kind of strength, balance and presence in my body that I was seeking. I also got increasingly more sensitive, an enduring shoulder injury, way too much flexibility in important joints, and the realization that this kind of practice was not sustainable.

Was I doing yoga? Does the ability to hold a handstand for 30 seconds make someone good at yoga? If I look at a yoga postures in a magazine and try to do the stuff I see, does that count? How we answer these questions depends on how we define yoga practice and what we think āsana (aaah-sun-uh, the practice of postures) is for. In the next few posts, we’ll look at several definitions of āsana, considerations for structuring a practice, and a few of Patañjali’s yoga sūtras that will give us a sense of what postural practice is all about and what we can look forward to when practice is well established.  

Seventeen years after my first yoga class, how I practce āsana is really different from those early years. With the guidance of my teacher and support of peers, my yoga practice is now slow, safe, and satisfying to me in very deep and essential ways. I practice at home, in the quiet. Breath is way more interesting that balancing on my hands. In times when I’ve been injured or in pain, I have ways to stay connected to my practice. And most interestingly, my mind operates much more attentively and peacefully.  I can imagine doing yoga like this for the rest of my life.

Here’s the sneak peak for the series…

Part 1: Āsana is about being and becoming

Part 2: What we do in āsana is not normal or ordinary

Part 3: For Āsana to help us operate in a new way, we have to be willing to have new experiences

Part 4: Āsana reaches all parts of our being

Part 5: Vinyāsa krāma: start where you are and take the necessary steps to reach your goal

Part 6: Prevent future suffering (Yoga Sūtra II.16)

Part 7: Āsana should be stable and comfortable (Yoga Sūtra II.46)

Part 8: Āsana helps us loosen the knots and reduce resistance (Yoga Sūtra II.47)

Part 9: The result of āsana practice: we will not be affected by extremes (Yoga Sūtra II.48)

The Yoga of Stand up Comedy

My husband, Dave, is hilarious and he has a great appreciation for comedy.  His sense of humor made me fall for the guy back in college and it’s a big part of why our relationship and our family life is still so much fun. One of the things Dave looks forward to each year is the Moontower Comedy Festival. It’s a weekend of mostly stand up comedy acts and with our passes around our necks, we get to see a variety of shows over the course of the festival.  Some shows showcase up-and-coming comics who each take the stage for a five-minute set. Mid-size venues feature a line-up of comics who are onstage for ten or fifteen-minutes.  And at the end of each night, the headliners, the comics who have been in the business for a long time, get an hour on stage to stand there and talk…and be funny… with only a microphone. I’m convinced that this is one of the hardest things that anyone could attempt to do, but somehow, the comedians make it look easy.

All the people in the festival are good, but some are really amazing, and those amazing ones always make me think about yoga. We have this idea that yoga happens on a colorful rectangular mat and involves pretzel like postures, but that’s not the real story. Yoga is a way of being and the comedians who flow with their material, timing, and audience embody this state. They are also themselves. Who they are comes through, and they aren’t trying to be anyone else. The Bhagavad Gita says that it’s better to do your own dharma imperfectly then to do someone else’s perfectly. This is true in comedy. In the best acts, the comedian is coming through.

When I’m in one of those audiences, time passes differently. I laugh because I’m connected to the person on stage, the jokes and the stories, and I can relate it to something I know within myself. I’m not the only one who feels it, either. These comics draw the biggest crowds. When we can feel the flow, the yoga, we know it and want to be around it.

How do these comedians get to be so good?  How do they reach this state of yoga?  They don’t get good by standing in front of their bathroom mirrors trying out all their jokes on themselves. It involves hundreds if not thousands of hours practicing their particular craft. They get up in front of crowds for five, and fifteen minutes at a time until they have the chops, the nerves and the material to deliver. They practice doing what they want to be able to do.  Patton Oswalt started doing comedy in 1988.  Colin Quinn – 1984. Chris Hardwick – 1991. Maria Bamford – 1998. I bet all of these people have had moments early in their respective careers in which they felt this flow, this state of yoga. Almost all of us have. But the cool thing is, with practice, it can happen with much more predictability and regularity.  Do it enough and eventually, it is possible to be in this state nearly all of the time.

Yoga’s definition holds a meaningful truth for each of us. We might not aspire to be comedians, but many of us do want to achieve a level of comfort, focused attention and flow within ourselves.  We want to get out of our own way and be ourselves, even if it’s a little messy and imperfect sometimes.  And here’s where our definition of yoga has to expand even further beyond mats and pretzels. The way that we move toward this state of being, a state of yoga, is through practicing yoga. That practice can involve rubber mats, but it doesn’t stop there. Practice supports us most when we bring that way of being in all that we do – into our relationships, the situations we encounter, and the way that we relate to our very own needs, desires, fears and passions. It would be nice if we could watch someone do something amazing and then decide to be there ourselves, but it doesn’t work that way.  We can’t will ourselves to have mastery of a skill or way of being.  The only thing we really can ‘do’ is practice and give ourselves the experience, again and again, of the way we want to be.

As my life shifts and changes … so does this blog

 

Let’s see what’s coming next…

Over the last few months, I’ve been thinking about this blog—how and why I started writing, the friendships and connections that have come because of it, how it has changed as I’ve changed, and where I am now. I’ve taken the last two weeks to see how it feels to pause my weekly writing practice and to reflect on what I’d like it to be now.

This blog started out in 2011 as a way to articulate and better understand things that were happening in my life as a result of yoga. I’d learn something then see it show up in my relationship with my kids or while I was driving or in the midst of an epic battle of house rats, and then take time to put it into words. The process of writing and reflecting provided me with the opportunity to spend more time with some whisp of intuition or to more carefully observe the slippery inner workings of my mind. By attempting to translate the experience or feeling into words, I had something of substance that I could work with and reflect on. It helped make manifest something important yet ephemeral. The process was exhilirating and meaningful. Nearly every week, as I wrote, published, read comments and had conversations my heart would pound in that way that confirmed how important this was to me. Blogging reminded me, in all the right ways, that I was alive, that writing is alive and that I am connected to the people, the ideas, the experiences and the feelings that I want to be connected to.

Flash forward to today, 2017. The experiences, feelings, and insights that were once ephemeral now have substance and staying power in my life. They are foundational to how I operate in my relationships and my teaching. I certainly don’t do it ‘perfectly,’ whatever that might mean, but I am more able to tune in, observe and listen to these more subtle aspects of myself and to operate from that place. Thanks to my friends and teachers at YATNA, my personal practice, and the individual guidance I receive from my yoga mentor, Chase Bossart, I have much of the needed language and framework for understanding what is happening in me and how to respond. Something else has happened, too. I’ve noticed that my attempts to write about all of this aren’t coming as easily. The personal work I’m involved in now is so incredibly intimate and I’m less willing or just less interested in putting into words the mystery of my unfolding spiritual adventure.  This inner work of yoga is really something.

So a change is a-coming. I’ll continue to reflect on what this blog will be for me and for us or maybe we’ll just watch it unfold together as I try out a different format for my posts or shift my focus to something that makes my heart do that thing again. I’ll still write and post, though on less of a fixed schedule. I do hope that we’ll keep in touch in a regular way, dear readers. If you’ve been considering deepening your yoga practice and would like to work together, let’s set up a time to talk – 20 minutes, no charge, and you can ask questions and we can see what we can do together. I’m in Austin, TX, but I’m also online (which means I can meet you anywhere!) CONTACT ME by clicking here.  If you aren’t already on my mailing list, there’s a button on the sidebar of the blog page or you can click here: SIGN UP FOR THE AGY NEWSLETTER  and you’ll get a monthly update on classes I offer, the annual Ojai Women’s retreat, links to yoga research, recipes that support a healthy lifestyle, or other offerings that I think you should hear about. Yay for change. Yay for 2017.

Until next time…

 

Conversations with a tween

The girls are both delighted to be posing with their dad for the Christmas photo!

The girls are both delighted to be posing with their dad for the Christmas photo!

I have a tendency, these days, to talk less. I really value quiet. I like the pauses in conversation to be with what was just said. I like to listen to where people go with their thoughts when given the time. I enjoy being around people and noticing what that feels like, seeing what they do and what I do– maybe listening to breathing.

Though this has been really nice in a lot of relationships, I’m starting to see that it may not be the best strategy with my tween daughter. Hazel doesn’t ask me what I think very often. She’ll tell me something about a friendship or something that makes her laugh, but it’s usually brief and it comes when her mind is there, still with her friend or connected to the funny thing she saw on pinterest. In these moments, I don’t get the feeling that she really wants to talk with me and that leaves me unsure of what to do. If I just sit there quietly, then she’ll eventually wander off. Though she’s not engaging me in conversation with her comments or passing thoughts, she is talking to me. In order to help get a conversation going, I have to push past my enjoyment of quiet and the awkwardness of not knowing exactly what to say and I need to make the effort to engage her. It seems so obvious now that I’m writing it down, which is good. There isn’t much that’s obvious in parenting a tween.

This weekend, I tried it out. Whenever Hazel said something, I thought of it as an invitation to connect. I’d ask her a question or talk about what I thought or a time I felt that way. It rained all weekend, so we spent a lot of time in the house together and I had many opportunities to practice. I’m pretty sure I talked more in one weekend than I average most weeks. It was a different way to be together. I felt closer to her and I could see that this way of connecting was working for her, too. On Sunday night at bedtime, I bent down to kiss her goodnight and give her a big squeeze. She didn’t let go right away, and so we stayed there, quietly hugging, feeling each other breathe. And then, she told me she’d had a really nice weekend. I don’t remember what I said, but I do know that my heart swelled and I felt grateful for her, for the time we spent talking and for all the quiet moments in between.


Happy Thanksgiving. (Be like the sponge)

img_8921

For some of us, gratitude doesn’t come so easily. Or maybe it’s not the gratitude itself, it’s just hard to receive the things that are offered or given. It’s kind of like the dried out sponge. When you try to wipe up some water with it, the hard sponge just pushes the water around. It can’t absorb what’s there. It isn’t until the sponge has a little time under the running faucet that the outer layers get soaked and expand. The water makes it’s way deeper and deeper until, eventually, the very center of the sponge gets to be pliable and soft and absorbant. After it’s soaked, it can be squeezed out and that’s when it becomes it’s most absorbant self. That’s the cycle. That’s what helps the sponge to be able to bend and flex and hold so much.

My wish is that each of us gets soaked with exactly what we need over and over again. That we get filled and nourished to our very deepest parts. When we are, as we are, we can offer and receive. We can bend and flex.

I’m filled up by this special community of readers, seekers, and students every week and I’m thankful for each of you. Blessings to you and your dear ones on this day of Thanksgiving.

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Start 2017 off right!

Yoga Sūtras of Patañjali 8-week Workshop

c60a222648d350f0e6a193b3146ee9e9The Yoga Sūtras is an ancient and fundamental text of Yoga. Even though it’s over 2,000 years old, the 196 aphorisms continue to be relevant to our modern day practice and life. In this course, we’ll dive into the second Chapter and right into the heart of the yoga journey, looking at what yoga is and what it helps us overcome. Through chant, discussion and practice, we’ll learn how to cultivate balance, clarity, and more meaning in our daily life.

January 12th – March 9th, 2017 (no class 2/2)

Thursdays, 9:30 – 11:00am

Private Studio, SW Austin, TX

$150* through 12/15

click here for more info and to register:
https://www.amandagreenyoga.com/workshops-special-events/